


Hinterland

by arabmorgan



Series: Where Wolves Lurk [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-07 15:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11626686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: In this story, Bambam drinks a chocolate shake, meets a new friend, bumps into an old friend, saves a werewolf, and uncovers a couple of secrets. Not necessarily in that order.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I remember the days when I thought RPF was weird, and now here I am. Also I'm apparently still shit at tagging.
> 
> Mostly I just kind of hope this isn't too boring OTL (Also quite a bit of time passes in this chapter, so just...take note of that I guess? Like it starts in May and ends late June.)

_May 2017_

This story starts on a perfectly pleasant spring night, perhaps a quarter of an hour after Bambam leaves the restaurant he’s been employed at for the past eight months. It’s not a particularly long walk home, and Bambam is inclined to amble – he’s tired, and even the knowledge that his bed awaits isn’t enough to get him to pick up his pace.

Maybe he hears it precisely because he’s strolling, or maybe he would have heard it regardless – the night is quiet, after all. Either way, there’s plenty of time for him to halt in his tracks and peer around curiously when an odd sound catches his attention – an odd sound coming from an ominously dark alley that should really have him turning away without a second glance.

Not that anyone who _knows_ Bambam would actually be surprised when he doesn’t take the sensible option right away (that is, to leave).

“Hello?” he calls, head cocked, brows furrowed. He _is_ still standing along the main road; there’s nothing to be afraid of.

A moment passes, and then he hears it again – the soft, strained whimper of an animal in pain.

Bambam rather likes animals; he’s actually been thinking of getting a dog if he moves back to Thailand in the future. Maybe a husky or something. There’s barely a pause before he whips his phone out, enables the torchlight function, and is being swallowed up by the blackness of the alley before anyone can utter ‘stop’. (Not that anyone else _is_ around to utter any such thing.)

Despite its doom-laden entrance, the alley is passably clean – no oil-slicked puddles, mounds of trash or dripping pipes in sight – merely badly lit, probably because no one has ever had reason to traverse its length after dark. Until now.

The alley takes a sharp right at its end, and Bambam makes to follow suit, except he freezes one step into the turn as the beam of light before him shines on ebony fur and hostile amber eyes. Slowly, quietly, he takes a step back, raising his phone to better illuminate the trapped creature before him.

It’s… _large_. Large pony large, maybe, although he isn’t exactly thinking in terms of animal size comparison at the moment. He’s still reeling from the fact that there appears to be an honest-to-god _werewolf_ right in front of him. Either that, or a mutated giant regular wolf, but that seems less likely somehow.

Everyone knows werewolves exist – it’s just one of those _things_ that no one talks about even though it’s common knowledge. It’s a disgrace to have one in your family, a major faux pas to have one as a friend, although the rumours say that it’s near impossible to pick them out of a crowd when they’re in human form anyway.

_This_ one is definitely not in human form, and it doesn’t look like it’s in good shape either. It lets out another whine as the phone sends another stream of light washing past its narrow-eyed gaze, flinching back and rattling the trap clamped firmly around its bloodied paw. The sight makes Bambam slightly sick to his stomach, and the very faint scent of iron that he’s only just noticing isn’t helping.

Hunters and their traps – another thing that everyone pretends doesn’t exist. Apparently, it doesn’t matter that werewolves used to be human too, that they’re someone’s son or daughter or friend, as long as they’re quietly taken care of. Out of sight and out of mind.

It’s sickening, is what it is. Bambam doesn’t actually _know_ any werewolves, but his imagination isn’t dead. If Youngjae or Mark or Jackson got attacked and turned, he’d tear the world apart if anyone dared to hurt them like how the poor creature in front of him is hurting now.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice hushed even though there’s no one around to hear him. “I’m not – I’m here to help.” To _try_ to help, anyway, if he can even get close.

The werewolf is staring at him, ears flat against its head, the fur about its neck stiff and ruffled, and Bambam wonders if it actually even understands what he’s saying. Is the human mind in there, or just a wild beast’s?

But he also wonders if anyone would worry, if this one wolf just ups and disappears tonight. If a family out there will tearfully put up _missing_ posters in the morning, if a seat in a classroom will remain empty for the rest of the term.

Slowly, he crouches down, wanting to look like less of a threat. He thinks about putting his hand out, but decides not to tempt fate. Instead, he just shuffles forward slowly, carefully, watching the wolf all the while. The wolf’s upper lip curls as he moves, exposing too-large fangs, and he immediately freezes, not quite knowing what he’s waiting for.

He’s locked in an awful staring contest with that knife-sharp, wary glare for what feels like three hours but must really only be three seconds, but then just as slowly, the werewolf lowers its head onto its uninjured paw, as if in acquiescence. (He feels like he’s just re-enacted that one scene in Harry Potter, the one with the Hippogriff.) The piercing stare fades, leaving its eyes limpid and wide with pain.

The thing is, Bambam has a reputation for being a bit of a diva, a memelord, someone always good for a laugh or a prank – but he is also an absolute bleeding heart, and he’s not about to leave this pitiful creature alone without rescue, risk of a gruesome death be damned.

Carefully, he inches forward, setting his phone against the wall so it’s shining right on the trap, gleaming deadly silver. The wolf’s head is just inches from his elbow as he inspects the contraption – he can feel its hot breath puffing anxiously on his bare skin – but it remains motionless, the swift rise and fall of its side the only hint of movement in the corner of his eye. It’s hard to resist the urge to touch that silky black coat, but he manages somehow.

“Okay, I’m just going to try and push this lever…thing,” Bambam announces after a moment, looking over uncertainly, because the only thing he’s going off is The Fox and the Hound movie that he watched a bunch of times when he was younger. The wolf blinks at him, and he doesn’t have much choice but to take that as acknowledgement.

Bambam will be the first to admit that he’s not exactly… _muscular_. Mark’s the strong one, and Jackson’s _definitely_ ripped, but him? He’s just known for his chopstick legs. So it’s really no surprise that he only gets the trap open after way too much grunting and effort; he’s panting like he just ran a mile by the time those metal jaws snap open, sending him falling back onto his ass on the cold concrete, the absolute definition of a sitting duck if the wolf decides it suddenly needs a midnight snack.

Instead of eating him, the werewolf gives its rather mangled-looking paw a couple of ginger licks, before hobbling up onto its working three legs, looming over Bambam for a moment. He stares up at it, and some part of his brain notes that its eyes are very bright in the shine of his phone. It gives his shoulder a friendly nudge with its nose, like it’s wondering what the hell he’s still doing down there, and then it turns and limps away into the darkness. The very tip of its tail brushes his knee, an unintentional farewell.

It should feel anticlimactic, but it doesn’t.

It feels like he’s done something good, like he’s been privy to a world that isn’t quite his, if only for just a moment. It feels a bit like a dream, the gentle snuffle of an over-large muzzle against his skin already fading against the backdrop of reality.

The stupid trap is chained to a pipe, and padlocked for good measure, so all he can do is to snap it shut again and lean it up against the wall, as harmless as he can make it. He might have to start doing that every night on his way home from work, for as long as it takes the hunter to catch on anyway.

He doesn’t realise it’s almost one in the morning until he opens his apartment door to a very annoyed-looking Youngjae sitting on the couch, looking for all the world like an angry mother waiting to welcome her errant son home with some tough love.

“I _called_ you,” Youngjae snaps, before Bambam can get an excuse in edgewise. “Is your phone on silent mode again? Do you know how _late_ it is? I thought you’d gotten robbed or eaten or something.” His tone is almost musical, his fading accent suddenly thick with irritation.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Bambam whines, shutting the door and dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor, before padding over and collapsing on the couch next to his housemate. Already Youngjae is softening – he’s not all that great at being stern, even though he tries to be, because he’s a year older and apparently that makes him responsible for Bambam’s wellbeing and all that.

“I have a morning class tomorrow, you know,” Youngjae says accusingly, but there’s no more bite to his tone, and there never was any steel in it anyway.

“I saw a werewolf today,” Bambam says in reply, glancing sideways at Youngjae so as not to miss the way his friend’s mouth falls open in confusion. Youngjae is terribly predicable sometimes, but Bambam loves that about him.

In the end, morning class or not, they don’t actually get to bed till after two, once Bambam has sieved through the dregs of his memory for every last detail of his night in response to Youngjae’s endearingly genuine wonder. The experience still has a tenuous, unreal quality to it, but it doesn’t feel any less magical for having been shared.

This is how the night fades and how this story starts – with their first meeting, of course, although neither of them know it yet – but Bambam’s story started quite a bit earlier.

* * *

Bambam is all of thirteen years old (in Thai age, anyway, because he’s never quite gotten into the habit of thinking in Korean age) when he lands in Korea for the first time, baby-faced and deceptively resilient. He doesn’t meet Youngjae until his sixth year in Seoul, when he answers Youngjae’s ad for a housemate (“must be tidy and responsible, preferably a student”), mere weeks after he steps out of the JYP building for the last time.

“Call me if you need help with rent or anything,” Mark says, terribly serious, because he can afford it and because he’s always been too willing to open his wallet for friends in need. Not that Bambam has any plans to take him up on that offer – he’s _nineteen_. He’s totally old enough to survive on his own.

The only thing Jinyoung says (in addition to that too-tight hug that leaves Bambam flailing for freedom) is, “Remember to _call_.” His lips are pressed together, his already-stiff smile just a tad bit too forced, and Bambam has a sudden premonition of what Jinyoung will look like in another thirty years, when his actual kids are beginning to leave the nest for good.

Despite all the teasing he does about Jinyoung’s painful-looking smile, even Bambam tears up on that last day. These are the guys who have babied him for six years, who have seen him sprout up till he finally passed Mark in height – the guys he was supposed to have debuted with this year, until the plans were scrapped and he decided he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

At least his new housemate turns out to be pretty cool. But it’s pretty much impossible to dislike someone whose laugh is so infectious anyway – plus Youngjae laughs at all of Bambam’s antics, which immediately makes them pals in Bambam’s eyes.

Youngjae is in his second year of university when Bambam moves in. He’s studying theatre and film because he wants to go into musical acting after graduation, which just means that they spend way too many late nights screaming their lungs out in a poor attempt at karaoke until their neighbors scream back for them to shut the hell up (tellingly, that usually only happens when Bambam is the one singing).

With some help from the ever-obliging Youngjae (who doesn’t miss the opportunity to laugh his ass off at every stupid spelling mistake he spots), Bambam finally manages to complete the online high school course he’s been on the verge of finishing for what feels like forever. Mark immediately makes plans to drag him (“ _and_ your housemate; we want to meet him”) out for celebratory beef the moment he hears the news, although it has to wait until the next time he and Jinyoung are back in Korea.

The next year, Bambam finally enrols in university, and he’s never felt more grown up.

> **Double B** <k.bhuwakul@naver.com>  
>  Fri 24/3/2017 8:40 PM  
>  To: **Jackson Wang** <wildnsexy@qq.com>
> 
> _Hey jacks!!_
> 
> _That pic u sent, u’re not even dabbing right lmao. Remind me to show u a REAL DAB next time we skype. Uni is ok i guess, i’m kinda tired from the study and working at the same time lol. Don’t u think waiting tables sound like a book? Like maybe i’m gna meet my true love soon when they sit down and look into my eyes lol. Or I give up on korea and go back home to help mum with her restaurant forever. Depending if it’s romance or like, realness? (Realistic? What’s the name for it in english?) The sad kind. Do u realise writers always make ‘real’ stories have sad endings? Their lives must be so sad lol._
> 
> _Btw can u PLEASE get kkt like wtf it’s FREE. Email makes u feel nostalgic cos it’s OLD and OUTDATED. U only feel nostalgia abt old things. Also i shld be free sun afternoon to skype if u can??_
> 
> _BAM 2_

His English is decidedly Americanised after years of practice with Mark and Jackson. He probably uses ‘like’ way too much, but it’s not as if anyone’s around to disapprove of that. In fact, Youngjae might just be the most enthusiastic English student ever, regardless of the fact that Bambam is less than qualified to teach him. The sheer hilariousness of their lessons almost makes up for the fact that it feels like he hasn’t Skyped Jackson in ages, because everything’s been absolutely hectic, what with learning how to juggle his classes and homework and shifts (while also making time to _sleep_ ).

The two of them find time to Skype about his werewolf encounter though, and Jackson actually gets so engrossed in the tale (Bambam _tries_ not to embellish, but it’s hard) he stops eating his dinner halfway through.

“So it left by itself? The wolf? It could walk okay?” It’s weird to see Jackson suddenly so focused, dressed carelessly as he is in his usual black tank, but his eyes are intense as he leans forward, closer to the screen.

A trickle of unease runs through Bambam at that unexpected reaction. The two of them have been chatting back and forth for close to four years now, and he honestly thinks that there’s nothing he wouldn’t tell Jackson, but it’s not like the werewolf issue has ever come up in casual conversation. What if Jackson hates werewolves or something?

Still, it’s not exactly a question he can dodge, so he shrugs as noncommittally as he can manage. “Well, yeah. There was some blood, but it seemed okay.”

As swiftly as it appears, the intensity in Jackson’s eyes fades, and he gives an enthusiastic whoop, leaping to his feet so that all Bambam can see is his torso as he does some sort of strange celebratory dance. “Bambam, what a _hero_!” he squeals exaggeratedly, and they both burst into hysterical laughter.

They move on to other things after that – Jackson’s training, Bambam’s awful groupmates – but the whole werewolf thing seems to weigh on Jackson more than he’s willing to let on. It’s not _patently_ obvious, but it’s not all that hard to tell when Jackson is distracted and trying not to appear so.

Their conversation is abruptly cut short when Jackson’s mother calls for him, her voice tinny and muffled in Bambam’s ears. “Mummy’s _calling_ ,” he sing-songs, grinning. Jackson smirks back at him, yells a reply back in Cantonese, and then shrugs in a _what can you do_ motion.

“Message me,” Bambam says with a yawn, leaning back from his laptop and stretching.

Jackson nods, and what follows is a pause in which neither of them speak, but the video call doesn’t end either. Bambam’s mouth is just opening to demand _what_ , when Jackson laughs, says, “See ya, werewolf saviour,” and then ends the call without waiting for a reply.

Bambam blinks, baffled. He can’t shake the hunch that he’s hurt Jackson’s feelings somehow, and the worst thing is that now he’ll have to dig for it if he wants to make it right, because with Jackson either he’s declaring every way in which he’s ever been wronged to anyone who will listen, or he’s clamming up tighter than Bambam’s newest pair of leather pants. Unfortunately, the latter is a decidedly larger pain in the ass (no pun intended) than the former.

But that’s the last Bambam speaks of his nocturnal encounter for a while. The next time he Skypes Jackson is almost a fortnight later, where Jackson is his usual over-excitable self in response to Bambam’s despair over his upcoming finals. Faced with such unsympathetic cackling from his traitor of a friend, werewolves are the last thing on his mind, and eventually it slips from the forefront of his thoughts all together.

(For someone whose life came close to ending on that night, however, the incident is a little harder to forget.)

That summer is Bambam’s first in Korea as a free individual, and while he doesn’t get up to much that can be termed _exciting_ (he’s a little too busy _working_ , being a regular person who needs to support himself and all), it feels spectacular anyway. His time is his own, and he can eat whatever the hell he wants whenever he feels like it, and that’s really all that he’s asking for.

_\----- Monday, 26 June 2017 -----_

**박진영** 5:02 AM  
_bam_  
_you’re coming for our concert right_  
 _do you have tickets already?_

**bambam** 9:26 AM  
_wow u’re up early_  
_the sad life of an idol lol_  
 _yea duh??_  
 _alr got them from mark_

**박진영** 8:55 PM  
_oh okay good_  
_just checking_  
 _and that’s mark HYUNG to you kid_  
 _got one for youngjae too?_

**bambam** 9:01 PM  
_no he went back to mokpo_  
_won’t be back till 1 aug or smth_  
 _pls mum_  
 _mark doesn’t care lol_

**박진영** 9:02 PM  
_stop calling me mum  
brat_

**bambam** 9:02 PM  
_anw i’m home alone_  
_PARTY TIME_  
 _mum_  
 _mum_  
 _MUUUMMMM_

**박진영** 9:06 PM  
_i’m taking those tickets back_  
_mark hyung says hi_  
 _he’s brushing his teeth_

**bambam** 9:07 PM  
_lmao no_  
_u know u love me_  
 _HI MARK_  
 _jinyoung hyung is nagging again_  
 _as usual_  
 _what’s new_  
 _lol_

**박진영** 9:10 PM  
_shut up_  
_we’re going to practice soon_  
 _see you at the concert_  
 _be careful when you’re home alone_  
 _don’t open the door for strangers_

**bambam** 9:13 PM  
_ok now u’re just mocking me_  
_or are u_  
 _i can’t tell u’re such a mum_  
 _yea see u in a few weeks!!!_  
 _don’t practice till too late_  
 _rest well_


	2. Chapter 2

_July 2017_

Bambam is slightly delayed on his way backstage after the concert – he hasn’t been gone from JYP _that_ long, and there are a couple of familiar faces he’s thrilled to see once more. By the time he gets to Mark and Jinyoung’s waiting room, the duo aren’t alone anymore, but one of the unexpected visitors is delightfully (if rather shockingly) familiar.

“Jaebum hyung?” He halts in the doorway, jaw agape like an absolute fool. Mark beams and beckons him over, but he can barely move, can barely even believe his eyes.

Jaebum turns around, that familiar narrow-eyed smile already on his face despite the momentary confusion accompanying it. “ _Bambam_?” he says after a moment, before bursting into surprised laughter. “Why are you so _tall_ now?”

It’s all the invitation Bambam needs. He lunges forward and into Jaebum, who opens his arms for the slighter boy without even staggering back a step.

“Why are you here?” he demands, almost accusingly. “It’s been _years_. How did you guys even find him?” Pulling away from Jaebum, although he doesn’t shrug off the arm slung casually across his shoulder (he’s _missed_ it), he frowns at Mark and Jinyoung in turn. Jinyoung looks unmoved, just a small smile playing about his lips, but Mark at least has the decency to look abashed.

“I never stopped contacting Jaebum,” he admits, and Bambam isn’t – well, _surprised_ isn’t the right word for it; perhaps _blindsided_. He _did_ kind of see that coming, in the few seconds between his question and Mark’s answer, but that doesn’t stop the hurt from blossoming in his chest.

“ _You_ stopped replying _me_ though,” he says quietly, not quite meeting Jaebum’s eyes, and he both hears and feels Jaebum’s sigh.

“I was going through some things, Bam,” Jaebum replies, his words vague but his tone odd, pleading. “Mark was helping me with stuff. Financially.” The last word sounds like it’s being dragged out of him by a team of horses, and Bambam finally looks back over at him, frowning.

“I missed you,” he says quietly, and Jaebum’s arm around his shoulders tightens just a fraction. He has so many more questions, but he doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s post-concert high any more than he already has, so he fixes his gaze on the only unfamiliar face in the room.

The other boy is _tall_ , dark hair styled in a mushroom cut that should, frankly, be completely awful and unappealing. He makes it work somehow though, and Bambam is jealous for just a moment before he decides that he would never make the stupid decision of getting his hair cut like that in the first place anyway. The boy is also _staring_ at him, a mix of curiosity and shock displayed openly on his face, and Bambam wonders if he looks like he’s going to have a meltdown or something.

“This is Yugyeom, my housemate.” Seeing the direction of his glance, Jaebum immediately takes over the introductions, those weird leader instincts clearly still serving him well. “Yugyeom, this is Bambam, a very, _very_ annoying junior of mine.” Bambam feels his lips pull into a grin at that, and he nudges Jaebum hard in the shoulder in retaliation.

Yugyeom offers him a shy smile and puts out his right hand. Bambam shakes it lightly, and then has to resist the urge to look down, or to tug the offending hand up to eye level for inspection, because the area about Yugyeom’s inner wrist feels absolutely pitted with scars, some indented, some bumpy and raised. He doesn’t even want to _think_ about what awful accident might have caused those.

Instead, all he does is smile politely and say, “Nice to meet you,” before finally hurrying over to hug first Jinyoung, then Mark (who still looks a tad embarrassed about the whole Jaebum situation).

“You forgot your lyrics! I _noticed_ ,” Bambam crows, just to get that discomfited expression off Mark’s face. Sure enough, Mark bursts into laughter, although it’s Jinyoung who swats him reprovingly from behind.

“Hey, let’s take a picture,” Mark suggests, still grinning as he nudges Bambam for his phone. “Jaebum, help us take a picture, then we can have a group shot.”

The expression on Jaebum’s face looks like he’s just been asked to lick Bambam’s shoes. “We’re going to be here all night,” he mutters, not at all under his breath, and Jinyoung’s hand flies to his mouth in amusement. Bambam is somewhat notorious for being unreasonably picky about his pictures; it’s an uphill battle to take one that he actually approves of.

Still, they manage in the end, an absurd number of pictures in all possible combinations – Bambam with Mark, then Jinyoung, then both, before Jaebum takes his turn as well. Yugyeom has to be forcibly tugged over, his feet dragging as he shuffles forward awkwardly, like he’s not sure if he belongs.

They snag a passing member of staff to snap a few group photos as well, before they finally call it a night. Mark and Jinyoung look exhausted, the adrenaline having long worn off, and Bambam slings an arm over Jinyoung’s shoulders as he meets Jaebum’s steady gaze.

“We should exchange numbers if you guys want the photos. They’re all in my phone,” he says, brows raised pointedly, a silent challenge. “I mean, unless you’d rather have Mark forward them all to you.” He doesn’t really mean to come off so antagonistic, but the sting of five years’ absence is still far from gone.

“ _Bam_ ,” Mark says immediately, sharply, and Bambam instinctively hunches in on himself. Beside him, Jinyoung tilts his head slightly, lips flattening, the only crack to his neutral veneer. Not that it matters; Mark getting _that tone_ in his voice never spells anything good anyway.

But Jaebum only sighs, looking tired. “I wasn’t…ready to reconnect with other people back then,” he says slowly, “but I wouldn’t have come tonight if I wasn’t ready now.”

Really, Bambam doesn’t want to fight, and especially not with Jaebum. “I’m working at this Thai restaurant most days. Come visit me,” he says after a moment, a careful peace offering. “I’ll text you the address. You can even bring Yugyeom.” He nods in the other boy’s direction, a wry smile on his face.

(Yugyeom looks mildly alarmed at the prospect of being dragged into the middle of this fiasco.)

It’s hard to leave. Bambam feels like he’s been roughly thrown back in time without any warning at all – just the four of them, his constants among the comings and goings of the other trainees. Even now, he can’t help but feel the lingering nudge of hero worship towards Jaebum, who got along with Mark pretty much right off the bat, but deigned to take the tagalong in as well, this nervous Thai kid who couldn’t understand a single word of Korean.

“Text me when your shifts are,” Jaebum says, like he’s somehow privy to all of Bambam’s insecurities. “We need to catch up soon.” His smile is soft as he reaches up ( _up_!) to ruffle at Bambam’s bright red locks.

He ducks away, flushing and pleased. “ _Hyung_ ,” he whines. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Which is why it’s weird when he gets a message that very night from pretty much the last person he would have expected.

_\----- Friday, 21 July 2017 -----_

**KYUM** 11:42 PM  
_hi bambam!_  
_this is yugyeom_  
 _we met tonight at the concert?_

**bambam** 11:48 PM  
_yea i rmb lol_  
_sup yugyeom??_  
 _u live w jaebum hyung right_

**KYUM** 11:50 PM  
_sry i know it’s a bit late_  
_just wanted to make sure i had the right no. :-)_  
 _yup only since last year though_

**bambam** 11:51 PM  
_it’s cool i never sleep early lmao_  
_are u a fan of mjp or did jaebum drag u along_  
 _how did u 2 meet??_  
 _it’s just like i haven’t seen him in 5 yrs???_

**KYUM** 11:54 PM  
_yeah the student life I feel u_  
 _hahahaha_  
 _er tbh i hadn’t rly listened to them before tonight_  
 _they’re cool guys though_  
 _i had a pretty bad accident last year, hyung helped me out and then offered me a place to stay_  
 _obv i haven’t known him that long but from what he’s said he wasn’t in a gd place back then_  
 _like things were pretty bad_

**bambam** 11:59 PM  
_lol what are u studying_  
_MJP ARE THE BOMB ur ears have been blessed_  
 _yea it just kinda sucks like he left jyp without even saying anything??_  
 _we were p close i guess but maybe not to him lol_  
 _jk_  
 _srsly i’m just glad to see him again_

_\----- Saturday, 22 July 2017 -----_

**KYUM** 12:06 AM  
_music and dance. you?_  
_nah he talked about u guys sometimes_  
 _he missed all of u_

**KYUM** 12:14 AM  
_actually i was wondering_  
_like not meaning to be rude haha just curious_  
 _ur not korean, right?_  
 _ur accent is very distinctive_

**bambam** 12:33 AM  
_sry was talking to my housemate_  
_he’s rly bummed he missed the concert lmao sucks to be him_  
 _what, u mean my name isn’t a dead giveaway???_  
 _lmaooo jk but yea i’m thai_  
 _why?_

**KYUM** 12:34 AM  
_haha nah i was just wondering_  
_anw i’m prob sleeping soon_  
 _it was rly nice to meet u today_  
 _see u again next time :-)_

**bambam** 12:36 AM  
_lol yea nice to meet u too!!  
night_

* * *

There’s actually a three week gap between the last time Bambam sees Jaebum and Jaebum’s official departure from JYP. They aren’t told much other than that there’s been some sort of accident, and that no it’s not critical, but no they can’t visit either.

Like everyone else, Bambam is worried, but not unduly so – surely Jaebum will be back soon. He can’t imagine anything that could keep their de facto leader away for too long, and especially not with JJ Project already slated to debut.

But Jaebum doesn’t return (not for another five years, anyway). They only get the news when Jinyoung demands to know when the other half of his duo will be back (“ _you said it wasn’t serious_ ”) and walks back into the practice room with an expression so shell-shocked that Bambam feels his stomach plunge downwards even before he hears the news.

“He’s gone. He left the company,” Jinyoung says blankly, and then he turns right around and walks out.

Bambam thinks that even through the betrayal and hurt seeping through them all, the unvoiced concern they share is the worst. The Jaebum they know would never walk out on them like that, but now something awful enough has happened to render that sense of responsibility moot. It leaves him feeling unmoored – if he can’t even count on Jaebum to stay, what can he count on?

Everything changes after that, but everything also stays the same. Even if his little circle of constants has shrunk to comprise of just Mark and Jinyoung, Bambam’s entire life still consists of practice, practice and more practice.

Naturally, Jinyoung’s debut is pushed back; he can hardly debut _solo_. They throw Mark at him instead, since apparently Jinyoung’s always had vocal ambitions anyway. They’ll be a major visual explosion, everyone teases, and apparently the public whole-heartedly agrees, if the headlines about MJ Project’s debut are anything to go by.

( _MJ Project’s explosive debut: powerful vocals and shining visuals!_

_JYP rookie duo makes debut with strong support from seniors._ )

For a project group, MJ Project gains traction surprisingly quickly – so quickly that eventually, they stop being referred to as a project group at all, and Bambam sees his chances for debut (before he’s like, twenty-five, anyway) fade before his eyes.

“They probably just want to milk everything out of MJP before they debut us in a bigger group,” Mark points out to him one day. “They didn’t expect us to make it so big, but I don’t think they’ll keep us as two. Not really JYP’s style, is it? Anyway, they’ve planned this for _years_ ; don’t worry, Bam.”

But apparently, plans do change, and Mark is wrong for once. When he hears that Bambam is leaving (too), he looks like someone’s gone and punched him in the gut. Jinyoung looks – well, not _great_ , but not all that surprised either, but then he’s always been too smart for his own good after all, always three steps ahead of everyone else.

“It’s not like I’m going off the _grid_ , hyung,” Bambam says with a roll of his eyes, and Jinyoung squints at him, like he’s not sure if that was an intentional reference to Jaebum. “I’m not even moving out of Seoul. The company’s helping me with my visas and stuff. I’ll just have to find a job, and then maybe I can even start uni next year.” He smiles, wide and hopeful despite the disappointment that’s been plaguing him for months now.

Mark cries anyway, just quiet tears that shake his too-slender frame, and Bambam hoists him up into a tight hug, Mark’s guilt making him feel guilty in turn.

Everything changes again, and this time, hardly anything stays the same.

Bambam doesn’t realise how _sheltered_ he’s been until he gets three blocks away from the JYP building and nothing looks familiar anymore. He doesn’t even know the name of the nearest train station. He looks back at the convenience store the trainees always run to for snacks and ice cream, a demarcation line between his old world and the new.

_That’s where Jaebum hyung was going the night of his accident_ , he thinks, a thought that sneaks up on him, catching him unawares. He hasn’t thought of Jaebum in a long time, and he feels only a faint pang of bittersweet curiosity.

Six years – a third of his life, practically, and now he’s leaving it all behind.

It takes him a week to figure out the buses that stop outside his new home and where they can bring him. It takes him only a little longer to get a job waiting tables at a Thai restaurant not so far from the apartment he now lives in (admittedly, it’s not exactly _authentic_ Thai food, contrary to all claims, but a little bit of home is better than nothing at all). And then he takes another three days to memorise his route from home to work and back, before he can make the journey without the help of his most trusted companion, Google Maps.

Walking home alone at night used to scare him – trainees rarely ever leave the company building alone, especially the younger ones, and there’s this saying, isn’t there? Low crime doesn’t mean no crime. It’s never truly _quiet_ in Seoul no matter how late it gets, but the restaurant and the apartment are in a quieter (read: _cheaper_ ) neighbourhood, and the sight of the empty, lamp-lit street ahead of him used to send chills down Bambam’s spine.

Nowadays, he meanders along without even batting an eyelash; if someone offered him a bet to walk home blindfolded, he’d take them on in a heartbeat.

The hunter stopped leaving traps out mere days after Bambam snapped them shut night after night, grim and determined, and he’s just passing that very alleyway (just as badly lit as before) when a flash of motion makes him whirl about, tense but not frightened.

A pair of oddly familiar amber eyes stares out at him from the darkness, and a surprised, “ _Oh_ ,” escapes his lips. He doesn’t kid himself that he somehow managed to _spot_ a werewolf; this meeting is clearly intentional.

“Hi,” he murmurs, and the wolf steps forward. It’s borderline creepy how it seems to materialise out of the shadows, the back half of its body still lost in shadow. They both stare at each other for a moment before the wolf lets out a sort of snuffling sound, like a sneeze, and sits back on its haunches, waiting.

Bambam approaches slowly, even as a rather small part of him screams at the stupidity of his actions, the innate terror of prey faced with predator. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, a sense of relief that he’d never even realised was missing settling snugly upon him. He holds out a hand that might possibly be trembling just a little, but a gentle lick is placed upon his palm, and that is all.

Warily at first, and then with more enthusiasm when the werewolf tilts its neck upwards to allow him better access, Bambam begins to scratch along the underside of its jaw, speaking quietly all the while. “You really shouldn’t be back here. Just because _this_ trap is gone doesn’t mean it hasn’t been placed somewhere else,” he scolds, even as his fingers push rhythmically through soft fur.

The werewolf’s eyes are half-slitted with enjoyment, but it exhales loudly at Bambam’s nagging, and he can tell it’s laughing at him, in its own way.

“Very funny,” he huffs back, letting his hand drop. The wolf follows the motion halfway, before raising its head to resume staring at Bambam with its unnervingly piercing gaze.

“I have to go. My housemate will be worried,” he says, not particularly convincingly. It’s a little odd to think of the werewolf as a _person_ , but it’s something he has to keep reminding himself. It’s not a _pet_ , not a wild animal either, but another sentient being just like him. A sentient being whose chin he was scratching not half a minute ago.

Bambam takes a reluctant step back, not knowing if this will be the last time he’ll see the wolf. “Thanks for letting me know you’re okay,” he says hastily, wanting to speak his mind in case he doesn’t get another chance to. “I’ve never met – you know, a werewolf before. I mean, you’re a little scary, but you’re not so bad. You should say hi to me in the day next time; I think that would be safer for you, wouldn’t it?”

He grins, pleased with his own suggestion, but the werewolf goes utterly still. Bambam would have described it as already motionless, but the contrast is still startling. It seems to freeze in place for a long moment, and something dark flashes through its eyes (Bambam thinks it looks a lot like fear, but he can’t be sure) before it stands smoothly and disappears back into the depths of the alley.

Bambam stares after it, disappointment churning heavily in his gut. Seriously, his second time meeting a werewolf and he manages to screw it up in the most spectacular way. The poor thing probably lives in mortal fear of its human form being connected with its wolf form, and here Bambam is asking for its deepest secret.

He is _such_ an idiot.

Bambam doesn’t tell anyone about his latest encounter, but that’s mostly because Jaebum texts to confirm their plans for the next day (that is, for Jaebum and Yugyeom to drop by the restaurant), and he ends up getting thoroughly distracted complaining about his nerves to Youngjae.

“If _you’re_ nervous, imagine how your friend feels,” Youngjae points out with a laugh (Youngjae laughs at a _lot_ of things). “ _He’s_ the one who disappeared on you.”

Bambam sits back, taking in this new perspective. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says at last, shrugging with a confidence he’s trying hard to feel. “I might invite them over after my shift. _If_ Jaebum hyung wants to talk.”

Youngjae yawns, his mouth opening wider than Bambam would’ve thought possible before meeting him. “Yeah, you do that,” he agrees. “I’d like to meet him.”

Bambam stares at his housemate, trying and failing to imagine Jaebum reacting to a too-lively Youngjae. “Yeah, I’d pay to see that happen,” he snorts, but he does feel better now – if not fearless then at least invigorated, which is going to have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh lemme know what you guys thought :)


	3. Chapter 3

_August 2017_

Jaebum and Yugyeom arrive right on schedule, along with the rest of the dinner crowd – which is, on hindsight, not exactly the smartest plan nor the most conducive environment for intimate conversations. But Bambam’s arranged to clock out earlier at least, so the invitation back to his apartment still stands.

“I would stay and chat, but –” His brows raise pointedly, a sigh escaping his lips at the ruckus around them. Already another table nearby is waving for him, everyone anxious to order as soon as possible.

Jaebum grins, waving Bambam off. “ _Go_. We can talk later.” As he walks away, Bambam distinctly hears Jaebum comment to Yugyeom, “It’s weird how much he’s grown up,” as if the other boy isn’t the exact same age as him. As if Jaebum is allowed to change but Bambam isn’t.

He shakes the thought off as soon as it comes – he is _not_ a bitter person, and he isn’t about to start now.

But Jaebum seems just as off-kilter as he is on the walk back, which actually doesn’t make Bambam feel better at all. Better just one of them be an emotional mess than _both_ , right?

Yugyeom manages to keep the conversation going though – he won’t stop asking Bambam questions about basically his entire _life_ , and Bambam wonders how much of this Yugyeom is actually interested in, what with Jaebum’s sullen presence behind them.

“So you take this road home every day?” Yugyeom asks, and it’s weird how _interested_ he can sound about such an ordinary question. His eyes are practically sparkling with how pleased he seems with the conversation, his ridiculous height doing nothing to take the puppy-like exuberance out of his being. Maybe Jaebum doesn’t let him out of the house enough or something.

Bambam blinks, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought. “Yeah. I don’t live far,” he says, turning away for just a moment as they approach a particular darkened alley. It’s empty, of course – what else was he expecting? – but when he turns back, it’s to find Yugyeom staring at him, no trace of that bright smile on his face.

It’s not a particularly _intense_ stare, but more of a contemplative one, like Yugyeom fell into deep thought halfway through looking at him. It’s unnerving anyway, and Bambam says, just a tad too sharply, “What?”

Yugyeom’s gaze flickers up to his in a nervous leap, his mouth half-opening in surprise. “Sorry,” he blurts, and even in the dim lighting Bambam can see his ears flushing red. “I was just thinking, I guess.”

It’s a stupid answer, but it’s the plain honesty of it that makes Bambam chuckle. “If you say so,” he says dryly, and he gets to see Yugyeom’s expression loosen up, that tentative smile making its way back onto his face. It’s both endearing and vulnerable all at the same time, and Bambam can immediately see why Jaebum took him in after the accident – Bambam might be spindly, but no one really messes with _him_ ; Yugyeom, though, _he_ has the vibe of a puppy that would eat poisoned bait right out of a stranger’s hand.

“I was just wondering,” he says, less cautious than he should be, because so far Yugyeom’s been nothing but an open book, “what kind of accident were you in? Is that how your hand…” Bambam’s eyes lower quite unintentionally, but Yugyeom is walking on his right, and only his left hand is anywhere in sight.

Which doesn’t really matter, because Bambam had ample opportunity to take a good look at Yugyeom’s right wrist throughout dinner (whenever he managed to walk past that table in the midst of taking orders and serving food, anyway). It looks – well, not as awful as he’s been picturing in his mind all this time, but it’s far from pretty. It actually looks like some robot dog took hold of Yugyeom’s hand and shook it around a bit, leaving too-even grooves and pale, ropy scars dragging across the entire circumference of his wrist.

Yugyeom jerks a little at the question, his left hand immediately going to cover his right in a movement that looks wholly unconscious. “Uh –” The taller boy’s gaze snaps forward, then sideways towards Bambam again, the transition to panic so swift that Bambam is momentarily lost for words.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to –” he starts, his hand reaching out involuntarily in an effort to comfort – even if he doesn’t know what the hell for.

“ _No_.” Yugyeom interrupts him so suddenly that he jumps. “I mean, no, they’re not related. My hand – that was more recent. This year.” He seems to catch a hold of himself, his breaths evening out with visible effort, even if the smile he directs towards Bambam is still a tad shaky.

“You talking about your hand, Gyeom?” comes Jaebum’s voice from just a few steps behind them. He doesn’t sound particularly shocked, nor worried, just suddenly very _present_ , when a moment ago it was like he was trying to pretend Bambam didn’t exist. Yugyeom, however, seems relieved to drift away from Bambam, allowing Jaebum to fill the space between them.

“Yeah, I was just asking if it was connected to his accident. The one where you met him,” Bambam says slowly, wondering if it’s paranoia to think that his friends are keeping something from him. (But then Jaebum sort of kept his entire continued existence a secret from pretty much everyone for five years, _so_.)

He leans over a little, catching Yugyeom’s eye. “I’m sorry if it’s – you know, a sensitive thing. I wasn’t really…thinking.” Yugyeom’s lips quirk a little at that, and just like that, Bambam knows he’s forgiven. It almost doesn’t feel good, for it to be so easy, like he can get away with anything with just a simple apology. He can’t believe hanging around Jaebum day in, day out hasn’t toughened Yugyeom up a little more.

The one good thing about that little faux pas is that Jaebum gets involved in the conversation as well, since he clearly doesn’t trust Bambam alone with Yugyeom, like Bambam’s a snake just waiting to gobble the other boy up whole. It should sting, that Jaebum is suddenly protecting someone else the way he used to protect Bambam, but it doesn’t, not really. It’s all just mildly amusing, in a _is that really necessary?_ kind of way, because he knows Jaebum, and he knows that’s just how Jaebum shows his affection for others.

So many years, and Jaebum is still trying to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders.

That’s what finally drives it home to Bambam, that his friendship with Jaebum will never be the same as it once was. Not _diminished_ in any way – not if he can help it – but their dynamics have changed too much for everything else to remain stagnant. Bambam’s learnt to get along without someone looking over his shoulder every step of the way (that was never Mark or Jinyoung’s role, but always Jaebum’s), and he doesn’t need anyone to start now.

Maybe Jaebum will finally start treating him like an equal now (or maybe that’s just too much to hope for).

It’s when they’re finally approaching the apartment that Jaebum asks curiously, like the thought has just occurred to him, “You have a housemate, right? Is he home?”

Bambam looks back distractedly, keying in the right entry code through muscle memory alone. “Uh, yeah. Didn’t I mention that?” he says. “Don’t worry, he’s super cool.” And then he pushes the door open to reveal Youngjae sitting on the couch with his laptop propped open in front of him, grinning at cute dog videos. (Behind him, Bambam hears Yugyeom muffle a snicker.)

Youngjae looks up at their entrance, his expression brightening as he stands. “I was waiting for you guys. You must be – _oh_.” He stops all of a sudden, blinking in surprise, and Bambam peeks behind him to see a similarly startled expression on Jaebum’s face.

“Uh, do you guys know each other or something?” Bambam demands, as a hot coil of _something_ forms in his stomach. Unease, perhaps. He feels like the ground beneath him has inexplicably shifted beneath his feet, leaving him scrambling for balance. Youngjae has always belonged to the post-JYP half of his life, and now the fact that two of his universes have collided is completely throwing him off.

The next moment, Youngjae laughs, and the atmosphere immediately relaxes. “When you kept talking about a Jaebum, I just didn’t link it – _Im_ Jaebum. We go to the same university; we’ve had a couple of classes together. We’ve never really talked though.”

“Small world,” Jaebum agrees, looking amused. He files into the small apartment, Yugyeom tagging along close behind him.

“So if I’d mentioned Jaebum hyung earlier, you could’ve told me where he was all along?” Bambam is still in a state of shock, looking from Youngjae to Jaebum and then back again, as if he can suddenly see the invisible link between them.

Youngjae grins. “Yeah, I guess. That’s why you should never have any secrets from people you live with.” Jaebum actually _laughs_ at that, and Bambam stares at him with huge, betrayed eyes.

“ _Hyung_ ,” he whines, long and drawn out, and he only stops when he catches sight of Yugyeom, still awkwardly hovering by Jaebum’s shoulder, looking undecided about whether he should come out and introduce himself since Bambam is obviously being a poor host.

Instead, Bambam grabs on to the other boy’s arm, tugging him out into the open. “ _This_ ,” he announces, “is Yugyeom. He’s Jaebum hyung’s housemate, and he’s currently my favourite person in this room.” Poor Yugyeom goes red all the way up to his ears again.

It’s kind of ironic, actually, that Bambam planned this whole visit for the sole purpose of catching up with Jaebum, but ends up hanging out with Yugyeom for the rest of the night instead, while Jaebum and Youngjae go on about their classes and majors and assignments and other awful school-related topics.

“This is so dumb,” Bambam mutters to himself, just this side of grumpy. “I didn’t think they’d get along.” He’s sprawled across his bed length-wise, with Yugyeom seated cross-legged by his feet, peering with interest at the wall calendar tacked up above Bambam’s desk.

“You have an MJP calendar?” Yugyeom says after a moment, sounding torn between disbelief and amusement, and then, “Isn’t it _good_ that they’re getting along?”

Bambam props himself up on his elbows to frown at the way Yugyeom is being side-tracked, but he glances at the calendar as well. It currently features Mark and Jinyoung standing opposite each other, Jinyoung staring somewhere into the distance past Mark’s shoulder, while Mark looks outwards with a sultry expression. (Mostly Bambam insists he looks constipated, but Mark begs to differ.)

“Yeah, it’s from their Season’s Greetings set. You know, the official one that the company produces every year,” he says, before flopping back down with an exaggerated sigh. “I just thought there’d be some _drama_ or something. Like Jaebum hyung being horrified by how loud Youngjae hyung is or something. Just…something funny, I guess. Anyway, this was supposed to be my chance to talk to Jaebum hyung.”

Yugyeom doesn’t really say anything to that, and Bambam hopes that his words haven’t been taken the wrong way. It’s not like he’s _unhappy_ about the unexpected change of plans – Yugyeom is pretty chill, and while they don’t know each other very well yet, Bambam feels like that has a relatively high chance of changing.

“So,” he says, tilting his head so that Yugyeom is in his line of sight, “you’re studying music and dance, right?”

Yugyeom looks vaguely surprised by the question, and he pauses for a second. “Um, yeah,” he starts, his smile bemused, and the rest of the night mostly flows from there.

* * *

_\----- Saturday, 5 August 2017 -----_

**d e f s o u l** 2:23 PM  
_gyeom just told me you two are meeting for lunch tmr  
seriously?_

**bambam** 3:01 PM  
_er_  
_yea_  
 _so???_

**d e f s o u l** 3:16 PM  
_nothing i’m just going to kill him_

**bambam** 3:19 PM  
_i repeat: ?????  
kill him for what_

**bambam** 3:40 PM  
_hello????_  
_kill him for making friends???_  
 _HELLOOOOOOO_  
 _HYUNG R U ALIVE OR_

**bambam** 4:07 PM  
_srsly u’re not his dad lol_

**d e f s o u l** 4:10 PM  
_it’s nothing bam_  
 _just this weekend isn’t a good time for him to be out_  
 _he’s just being irresponsible_  
 _also i’m your hyung. don’t forget that_

**bambam** 4:11 PM  
_r u for real rn_  
_he’s like 20_  
 _do u know how creepy u sound rn_

**d e f s o u l** 4:14 PM  
_this isn’t funny_  
_he needs to be home by 6_  
 _can you make sure of that_  
 _otherwise he’s not going anywhere_

**bambam** 4:19 PM  
_wtf_  
_is he crazy and he needs to come home for meds_  
 _or are u the psychotic one_  
 _i’m telling mark u’re off ur rocker lmao_  
 _home by 6 looool_

**d e f s o u l** 4:21 PM  
_stop. screwing with me._  
 _bambam_  
 _I’M SERIOUS_

**bambam** 4:26 PM  
_PS THIS ISN’T A DATE_  
_I’M NOT GNA CORRUPT UR VIRGIN ADOPTED SON_  
 _LMAO_  
 _BYE_

**d e f s o u l** 4:27 PM  
_KUNPIMOOK BHUWAKUL  
DON’T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT_

_\----- Saturday, 5 August 2017 -----_

**bambam** 8:15 PM  
_hey r we still on for tmr_

**KYUM** 8:15 PM  
_yeah ofc!! :-)_

**bambam** 8:17 PM  
_cool just checking_  
_jaebum’s on my ass for some reason??_  
 _idek what’s up w him lol_  
 _he didn’t use to be so nuts_

**KYUM** 8:19 PM  
_oh_  
_right_  
 _about that_

**bambam** 8:19 PM  
_….what_

**KYUM** 8:21 PM  
_idk he just worries a lot_  
_it’s not really his fault_  
 _he’s been a lil stressed these few days_  
 _anw as long as i get home before dinner it’s all cool_

**bambam** 8:23 PM  
_u shldn’t let him boss u around like this lol_  
_he’s being ridiculous_  
 _next thing u know he’ll be locking u up in a cage or smth_

**KYUM** 8:24 PM  
_hahaha_  
_well_  
 _it’ll be fine. nothing to worry about_

**bambam** 8:24 PM  
_u’re not like WITH jaebum right  
sry weird qn_

**KYUM** 8:25 PM  
_what?!_  
_NO_  
 _not at all_  
 _why would u say that omg_  
 _i feel traumatised_

**bambam** 8:27 PM  
_IDK_  
_i thought maybe he was like being possessive or smth_  
 _just checking LOL_

**KYUM** 8:28 PM  
_hahaha…._  
_okay well now u know we’re not together_  
 _…that was like the no. 1 weirdest qn i’ve ever been asked_  
 _btw are we catching that movie after lunch_

**bambam** 8:30 PM  
_LOL sry_  
_yea i checked the timings alr_  
 _there’re still seats_  
 _u’re ok with spidey right_

**KYUM** 8:32 PM  
_yup!_  
_i think i hear jaebum hyung coming to yell at me again_  
 _hahaha_  
 _i gtg_  
 _see u tmr :-)_

**bambam** 8:33 PM  
_um…ok??  
see u_

_\----- Saturday, 5 August 2017 -----_

**bambam** 11:32 PM  
_hey mark_  
_have u talked to jaebum lately_  
 _he’s being weird as shit_  
 _like he’s controlling yugyeom or smth??_  
 _like an evil fairy godmother???_

**bambam** 11:56 PM  
_wait i forgot u’re in japan_  
_nvm just reply me after ur schedules_  
 _buy me smth nice back ily_

_\----- Sunday, 6 August 2017 -----_

**bambam** 12:13 AM  
_u wanna skype?_

But Jackson doesn’t reply until it’s morning – at ten, to be precise, when Bambam is trying to get ready for his lunch appointment. They do end up Skyping anyway, so mostly Jackson gets an unimpeded view of Bambam’s not-very-tidy room, while the other half of the conversation rockets around as a lanky blur.

“If you were anyone else, I would think you were preparing for a date,” Jackson says dryly, as he watches Bambam change his shirt for the fourth time, “but you do this every day, so.”

“I have a _reputation_ ,” Bambam replies airily, holding a fifth shirt up and squinting at it. “But seriously, don’t you think Jaebum hyung is being…not normal?” He glances over at his laptop, struggling for the right English word in his mind.

“Creepy? Weird? A cradle-robber?” Jackson suggests. “He does sound kind of _controlling_ , I guess.”

Bambam shoots Jackson a glare, unsatisfied with his friend’s unenthusiastic roasting of Jaebum’s ridiculous ways. “I’ll send you a screenshot of his messages last night,” he decides at last, putting the shirt aside carefully before grabbing his phone.

The room is mostly silent for a bit after that, as Bambam lays out about half a dozen pair of ( _identical_ , Jackson will insist fervently) shoes and begins the arduous process of trying them on one at a time.

“Bam.” When Jackson finally speaks again, it’s in a rather odd, strained voice that makes Bambam pause in his tracks and look up, his expression quizzical. “Did you say this Yugyeom kid had some sort of accident?”

Bambam shrugs, although he doesn’t immediately go back to his shoes. “Yeah. I don’t know what accident it was though. He’s a bit… _sensitive_ about it, I think,” he says with a grimace, remembering the look of sheer terror that had flashed across Yugyeom’s face the last time Bambam had tried to ask about it.

Jackson’s expression is stranger than ever now, a rather worrying mixture of frustration and sadness, and Bambam slowly walks back over to his desk, unease prickling along his arms. “What is it?”

“I can’t – I don’t know for certain,” Jackson says haltingly, his gaze fixed somewhere to the side of his camera. “I mean, I don’t even _know_ Jaebum or Yugyeom. I can’t say anything. I don’t know what’s going on.” His final sentence is shaky but resolute, and Bambam has no idea how to react to that. He can’t even be upset because he doesn’t know _what_ to be upset about.

“I don’t understand,” is all he says in response, blankly. “We’re talking about Jaebum’s messages, not Yugyeom’s accident.”

Jackson runs a hand through his hair with a groan, leaving messy strands sticking up haphazardly about his face. “ _If_ I’m right – and I might not be – the two things are related,” he mumbles reluctantly. “I just think Jaebum might have a reason to be acting the way he is, but it’s not up to me to say it.”

“You can’t just _say_ things like that and then not – not _tell_ me,” Bambam snaps back, annoyance beginning to bubble up within him. He is heartily tired of pretty much everyone in his limited circle of friends keeping secrets from him – secrets that seem, for some reason, to revolve around a certain Im Jaebum.

“Come on, Bam,” Jackson pleads, whipping out his patented puppy-dog eyes. “You wouldn’t go around telling everyone your friends’ secrets, right? This isn’t mine to tell.”

Bambam rolls his eyes, deliberately turning his back on the screen to begin packing up his shoes. “Okay, fine. Whatever,” he says flatly, because he doesn’t give a damn anyway. Why should _he_ care about why Jaebum has suddenly transformed into an over-controlling dad from hell? Why should he care that Yugyeom probably has an unhealthy dependence on some guy he sees as an older brother?

“Look, I have a lunch to get to,” Bambam says, rummaging through his bag in search of his wallet. “I’ll talk to you later tonight.”

Jackson winces apologetically. “I can’t tonight. Tomorrow morning?”

Bambam lets out a loud breath through his nose. “I have work,” he says shortly, but then he relents. “Message me, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Have a good lunch.” Jackson smiles, bright and hopeful, and Bambam can feel himself melting under that expression.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, the corners of his lips threatening to twitch into the semblance of a smile. “Bye, Jacks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't decide if I'm making everything too obvious or too cryptic???


	4. Chapter 4

_August 2017_

Everything goes swimmingly until the end of the movie, and then everything pretty much goes to pieces.

Even during lunch, Bambam can’t help but think that he hasn’t had so much fun with anyone in ages. As annoyed as he is with Jaebum right then, he thinks the fact that they have a mutual friend has somehow helped to accelerate his friendship with Yugyeom. It’s not as if he had any opportunity to meet new people while he was in JYP, and even now, work mostly keeps him too busy to stay in touch with classmates that he probably won’t see again next semester.

He can’t even remember half of what they talked about – everything, probably, from his fashion design course to stupid stories about their housemates – but he’s grateful for it, because he’ll take easy conversation any day over too-long awkward silences.

Mostly he remembers the way Yugyeom’s nose scrunches when he laughs, his eyes crinkling so hard they’re almost shut even as his mouth opens in the hugest, most delighted grin. It looks completely stupid, and Bambam gets the most terrible urge to mimic Yugyeom when he does that, but it’s also desperately _cute_.

He’s starting to think that he was lying to Jaebum about not corrupting his virgin son.

(Unless Yugyeom’s _not_ a virgin, then Bambam wouldn’t have been lying. But really, thinking about Yugyeom’s theoretical virginity on their _first_ lunch non-date is hardly what he should be doing.)

Dirty thoughts aside, Bambam has a perfectly good time at the theatre as well, and the two of them exit still chattering about the latest Spider-Man movie and whether it is the best reboot yet (Bambam thinks it is).

It’s only after that that things start to get a little odd. Mostly Bambam thinks of it as _unpromising_ (that is, unpromising in terms of his potential corruption of Yugyeom).

It’s half past five when they leave the theatre, and it doesn’t take long for Yugyeom to start looking somewhat antsy. Bambam wonders if he should bring up Jaebum’s supposed six o’clock curfew, but Yugyeom looks more uncomfortable than worried. After the fourth time an increasingly twitchy Yugyeom loses his train of thought in the middle of a sentence, Bambam decides that enough is enough.

“Is something wrong?” he asks carefully, and Yugyeom’s head snaps around to face him so fast that Bambam is a little afraid for his neck. “I mean, you seem kind of…distracted.” He waves a hand around them vaguely, and Yugyeom immediately looks shame-faced.

“Sorry. I – yeah,” he says by way of complete non-explanation, and Bambam raises his brows, which only seems to fluster Yugyeom even more. “Shall we, uh, get a drink? I’m just feeling a little – jittery.” He grabs Bambam’s wrist, seemingly without much thought, and tows the shorter boy along to a nearby café.

Bambam trails along behind Yugyeom, wondering at the difference between the outgoing, laughing boy he’d had lunch with not six hours ago, and the nervous-looking one now. “If you need to head back –” he suggests, but he’s never been very good at _delicate_.

Yugyeom waves him off hastily. “No, I’m good for another hour or so,” he insists, and so they do get drinks (twin chocolate shakes, because Bambam just orders whatever Yugyeom is having) before taking a seat by the large glass windows. But the atmosphere is infused with awkwardness now, the silence lying thick between them as they stare out at the passers-by. Yugyeom twists his cup round and round, the orange glow of the lamp above them making the scars on his wrist stand out stark white.

Finally, Bambam stands. “I’m just gonna run to the bathroom,” he blurts, and Yugyeom smiles at him. It’s a nice smile, reaching his eyes and softening his entire expression, and Bambam finds himself reciprocating before he can even think about it.

His phone rings when he is washing his hands, and somehow he is not at all surprised to see that the caller is Jaebum. His hands are wet, so he quite unrepentantly lets Jaebum ring until the call is redirected to voicemail, but there is no message.

When Bambam returns to the table, Yugyeom is gone.

He takes his seat and stares around stupidly for a long moment, as if further inspection might reveal Yugyeom buying another drink or seated at another table – but there is only one drink left in front of him, and a napkin with five words scrawled messily across it.

_Sorry. I had fun today._

Yeah, so much fun he skedaddled without even saying goodbye. Bambam feels like he’s been slapped across the face. He doesn’t even know why he feels so hurt – actually, on second thought, he does. It’s because this wasn’t even supposed to be a date, just two friends hanging out, nothing special, and they couldn’t even manage to get _that_ right.

Maybe he’d have been disappointed if Yugyeom ran out on a date, but this – well, he doesn’t even know what _this_ is anymore.

He glances at his phone, but there are no unread messages or missed calls (except that one from Jaebum, which he honestly couldn’t care less about). Taking a sip of his chocolate shake, he texts Youngjae to ask if he wants Bambam to pack dinner back for tonight ( _yes please!!!_ ), and then he sits in the same spot for the next half hour until it’s time to leave.

_\----- Sunday, 6 August 2017 -----_

**bambam** 6:32 PM  
_did u get home ok?_

He isn’t really surprised when he doesn’t get a response (he thinks his quota for being shocked by anything has been met for the day), so he just stuffs his phone back into his pocket and goes to buy dinner.

Unfortunately, eating at home proves to be a mistake, because Youngjae takes one look at Bambam’s face, squeezes the entire story out of him within the first twenty minutes, and then proceeds to get mad on his behalf. Really, Bambam is already tired of the entire thing. He kind of just never wants to think about it ever again.

“Look, it’s just _common courtesy_ ,” Youngjae rants, and usually Bambam would be egging him on with subtle (or not-so-subtle, as the case may be) jabs, because things that get Youngjae heated truly come around once in a blue moon, but he’s clean out of energy tonight. “He could at least have _texted_. He didn’t, did he? I _knew_ it. That’s just rude, seriously.”

“Hyung…” Bambam tries for his usual whine, but it comes out less wheedling and more as a dejected sigh.

“ _Bam_ ,” Youngjae sighs in reponse, but relents anyway. “Maybe he’ll text tomorrow. Maybe something urgent came up with his family or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bambam agrees doubtfully, and then puts on the brightest smile he can muster. “But even if he doesn’t, at least I still have _you_ , hyung!” In a flash, he’s out of his chair and throwing his arms around Youngjae, bringing his lips close to his housemate’s face and making loud kissy noises. Youngjae seems torn between laughing and shrieking as he tries to struggle out of Bambam’s grasp.

Honestly, Bambam doesn’t know how he was lucky enough to end up with someone like Youngjae in his life. He takes the ‘cinnamon roll’ meme to a whole new level (as opposed to Bambam, who can’t wait to grow up fast enough), and Bambam is grateful for it.

He gets a text from Mark later that night, just six words: _I’ll talk to Jaebum about it._ In reply, Bambam spams him with questions about the current fashion trends in Japan.

The next day, work keeps him too busy to overthink the fact that Yugyeom still hasn’t even texted (which is an even worse thing, because all hope of the other boy pulling the ‘family emergency’ card has mostly shrivelled to nothing). It’s a Monday, and many of the restaurant’s customers look just as unhappy as Bambam feels, which gives his small, bitter heart no small amount of glee.

He meets Youngjae for lunch, at a nice (and cheap) noodle place halfway between their workplaces. Youngjae arrives sprinkled with fur as usual, his black t-shirt only making that fact that much more apparent. Youngjae can always be counted on for good animal stories, and he does in fact wax poetic about a puppy named Coco, which he swears is the cutest living thing ever and that he is already half in love with her. (But then Youngjae loves every single animal in the pet shop anyway; his heart is just that big.)

_\----- Monday, 7 August 2017 -----_

**d e f s o u l** 3:20 PM  
_yugyeom wants to apologise for yesterday_

 **bambam** 4:16 PM  
_thru u?  
that’s funny lol_

 **d e f s o u l** 4:17 PM  
_bam watch it  
he doesn’t know i’m msging you_

 **bambam** 4:17 PM  
_better hurry  
i’m in the toilet waiting for ur excuses for him lmao_

 **d e f s o u l** 4:18 PM  
_look, after his accident he’s been hesitant about making friends_  
_doesn’t help that he’s shy_  
_he likes you a lot, but now he feels bad and he thinks you don’t want to be his friend anymore_

 **bambam** 4:18 PM  
_well he wldn’t be wrong_

 **d e f s o u l** 4:20 PM  
_BAM_  
_come on_  
_i’m asking you to be the bigger person here_

 **bambam** 4:22 PM  
_do u know what he did ytd_  
_he walked off while i was in THE TOILET_  
_he didn’t even say bye_  
_he didn’t text to explain_  
_and now U are msging me for him_  
_if he sees me as a friend he shld tell me WHAT’S UP W HIM_  
_hyung do u know how shitty it made me feel to come out to AN EMPTY TABLE_

 **d e f s o u l** 4:24 PM  
_it was a horrible thing to do, no excuses_  
_but he had his reasons_  
_he just needs some understanding here_

 **bambam** 4:24 PM  
_lololol it’s ok keep ur secrets_  
_i gotta get back to work_  
_cya_

 **d e f s o u l** 4:26 PM  
_please just message him_  
_just a hi_  
_he really wants to talk to you_  
_he’s not in an easy situation_

Bambam returns home in a foul mood, so foul that even Youngjae tiptoes around him in fear of an imminent explosion. He doesn’t know who he’s madder at – Jaebum for sticking up for Yugyeom in spite of _everything_ , himself for moping over some idiot guy he’s met less than five times, or Yugyeom for being a secretive asswipe.

So Yugyeom’s ashamed – that’s fair; maybe his text should start with the word _sorry_. But no, he can’t even lift his fingers to explain himself to Bambam, and if he’s reading the situation with Jaebum right, apparently Yugyeom’s decided never to contact Bambam again out of guilt. Who even _does_ that? It doesn’t make any damn sense.

Exhausted and simmering with annoyance, Bambam decides to call it an early night. Tomorrow will be a better day; tomorrow he’ll be productive; tomorrow he’ll start thinking about classes for the upcoming fall semester.

Outside his window, a full moon hangs bright and white in the sky.

* * *

 

 

> **Bambam** <k.bhuwakul@naver.com>  
>  Wed 8/5/2013 2:55 PM  
>  To: **Jackson Wang** <wildnsexy@qq.com>
> 
> _Dear Jackson,_
> 
> _It is very nice to meet you! I have been really excited to be assigned my penpal all week! My name is Bambam (it is a nickname that everyone calls me) and I am from Thailand, but right now I am living in Korea. I just turned 16 last week :)_
> 
> _I have been learning English for a few years from my friend Mark, but I hope this online course will help me to improve more. What about you? Do you have any hobbies? I like dancing and rapping very much. I practice all the time._
> 
> _I hope to get to know you better very soon. I look forward to your reply!_
> 
> _Yours sincerely,  
>  Bambam_

 

> **Wang Jia Er Jackson** <wildnsexy@qq.com>  
>  Wed 10/5/2013 8:21 PM  
>  To: **Bambam** <k.bhuwakul@naver.com>
> 
> _Hi Bambam!!_
> 
> _Sweet name!! It’s really nice to meet you too, but like, I have to be honest with you?? I’m actually fluent in english and my friends signed me up for this course as a joke LOL. Because they’re dickheads. Happy belated birthday tho!! I hope you ate a lot of cake!! I turned 19 in march._
> 
> _If you’re thai and you’re living in korea (but why are you living in korea tho?? Were you born there??), and you’re learning english (which you’re really good at btw!!), doesn’t that make you TRI-lingual? That’s super cool. I’m like kind of trilingual too I guess? I’m from hong kong, so I can speak english, chinese and cantonese. Tri-buddies!!_
> 
> _Um pretty much all I do is fence. I know I sound like I have no life but I was in the Olympics last year, which is why I practice A LOT (I don’t mean to brag LOL. I didn’t get a medal or anything). Do you know much about fencing? It’s ok if you don’t tho; most people don’t LOL._
> 
> _What kind of dance and rap do you do? I’ve always wanted to learn to dance, like hip hop or something. Why are you so cool??_
> 
> _Okay so as I said, I’m not REALLY in the course (I mean I’m like enrolled but I’m probably going to quit because I don’t…need to learn anymore english??) but we could keep writing if you don’t mind?? I think you’re super chill and I really want to get to know you more too!! You’re my first penpal ever LOL._
> 
> _Jacks_

And that’s how Bambam and Jackson begin their correspondence, which is, in hindsight, a _very_ Jackson thing to happen.

Mark thinks it’s hilarious. Jinyoung is a little more cautious (read: _paranoid_ ), and Bambam is fairly sure he doesn’t have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times he’s heard the ‘stranger danger’ talk from Jinyoung. He even Googles ‘jackson wang fencing’ to make sure that Jackson isn’t lying about being an Olympian, but no sooner has he verified Jackson’s claims than he’s fretting about the possibility of someone _posing_ as an Olympian.

“Why would anyone pose as an Olympian no one knows?” Bambam snorts, completely unconvinced. “If I wanted to scam someone, I’d pretend to be Michael Phelps or something. Right?” He looks around to raise a quizzical brow at Jinyoung, who looks mightily appalled at the thought of his baby Bambam ever scamming anyone.

Luckily, Jinyoung’s fears come to nothing, and Jackson fairly easily proves he is _exactly_ who he says he is during their first Skype session. (Jinyoung insists on chaperoning anyway, and sits in Bambam’s room reading a book the whole time, while Mark peers over Bambam’s shoulder with interest, probably just for the pleasure of hearing someone speak fluent English).

Bambam doesn’t actually realise how much he’s come to rely on Jackson – for support, for advice, or even just to make him laugh – until he decides to make the move out of JYP and finds himself without anyone to turn to. Mark and Jinyoung are, after all, part (most, if he’s honest) of the reason he’s leaving in the first place, and the other trainees – well, they would be sad to see him go, but he’s never been as close to them as the original quartet.

It’s not that he blames Jackson – the _Olympics_ are kind of more important than _him_ , and they’re only two months away. It’s just that he has so much to say and no one to say it to. He writes long emails to Jackson anyway, emails that are probably riddled with grammatical errors because he’s in too much of a hurry to get everything out to think too hard about English sentence structure. Jackson doesn’t reply often, and when he does, his emails are tragically short (if immensely energetic), but it makes Bambam feel better anyway.

Anyway, Jackson gets a medal out of all that hard work (Bambam makes sure to catch the finals on TV, even if he can’t actually _see_ the lightning-fast moves happening half the time), and the joy on Jackson’s face when he Skypes Bambam two days later is worth all those months of lacklustre communication.

But now, a year later, it’s déjà vu all over again. They’re still in contact as regularly as ever, but through unspoken mutual agreement, the Yugyeom situation is never brought up again – except skirting the issue is only making Bambam’s fixation on it worse. What secrets are Jaebum and Yugyeom hiding? Certainly Jackson seems to think there _is_ a secret, but Bambam can hardly sound it out to Youngjae without sounding like he’s lost his mind.

Anyway, it’s been three weeks without a single peep from Yugyeom, and Bambam is quite ready to wash his hands of the entire situation (or so he tells himself). It’s not stubbornness to want to receive an apology first, is it? The only thing he feels vaguely sorry about is the fact that Jaebum is now caught in the supremely uncomfortable position of having two feuding friends, but he is, after all, perfectly willing to talk to Jaebum as long as he stops bringing up Yugyeom every three seconds.

Bambam only has a few more days of freedom before the new semester starts, and in between shifts, he’s been busy scurrying around buying course materials as cheaply as possible (seriously, months of savings – wiped out in an instant). His walks home are consumed by thoughts of his bank account, and how to convince his mother he’s _fine_ the next time he calls her; he hasn’t thought about the werewolf in ages.

Which is probably _precisely_ why it decides to make a surprise appearance.

It looms out at him much more swiftly than he would have expected, and a series of garbled syllables spills out of his mouth before he realises what almost scared the pants off him, and his momentary panic subsides into relief.

“Why did you _do_ that?” Bambam demands, a huff of disbelief accompanying his words. But the wolf looks anxious today, its head jerking in Bambam’s direction before it steps back into the alley, clearly waiting for him to follow.

“What? Do you have a friend who’s hurt or something?” is Bambam’s first response, his mind immediately leaping to the possibility of another trap. He takes a slow step away from the main road, the wolf’s bright gaze blinking impatiently, almost at eye level with him.

The next moment, something else – something _large_ – crashes out from behind the black werewolf, barrelling into it with a furious snarl. Bambam hears a yelp, and then a muffled thud, but he is already retreating, correctly identifying the blurred streak of grey as _wolfish_. He doesn’t know _why_ two werewolves would be going at it in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t think he wants to get involved.

The black wolf wriggles out of the newcomer’s grasp, a low growl rumbling in its throat as it turns towards Bambam, and friend or not, Bambam _runs_. He hears the soft (deceptively soft, for a creature so big) thud of paws on concrete behind him, and then another commotion as the second wolf gets involved again, but he doesn’t dare to look back. He can say with certainty that he has never been so terrified in his life.

And then it comes, a plaintive cry in a human voice. “Bambam, _wait_!”

Bambam twists around, but his legs don’t stop moving, and he falls in a tangled heap. Some distance away – did he really run _that_ far? – he sees _Yugyeom_ , struggling to his feet and calling for him. He can’t wrap his mind around it – _why_ – and possibly his attention should be drawn to the fact that the other boy is exposing a _lot_ of skin, but then the grey wolf looms up behind Yugyeom and bowls him over with one bat of its paw.

Bambam doesn’t remember screaming, but later his throat will be hoarse for days. What he does remember is Yugyeom rolling on the pavement, and then – a flicker? A gradual change? He doesn’t know – the black wolf is leaping up at the grey one again, jaws snapping.

This time, Bambam leaves a smeared streak of blood behind on the pavement when he runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh almost at the end! I swear everything will make sense in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

_August 2017_

Bambam honestly doesn’t remember how he manages to get home, only that he fumbles with the keypad lock – his bloody fingertips shaking so hard he obscures entire buttons in red – for so long that Youngjae finally opens the door for him, the impatience on his housemate’s features transforming into abject horror at whatever it is Bambam looks like at the moment. Like he’s seen a ghost, maybe, or been chased by two werewolves.

“God,” Youngjae finally manages to say, breathless, as he bodily drags a stumbling Bambam into the bathroom, “you’re bleeding everywhere.” But it’s just the blood that has somehow spread, from the ugly scrapes across his legs and arms and palms, souvenirs of his fall on rough concrete. (There _is_ a downside to ripped jeans after all, he discovers.)

By the time his injuries have been washed clean, the shaking has subsided, and Bambam feels mostly recovered enough to begin complaining, if somewhat half-heartedly. “ _Ow_ ,” he mumbles, flinching as Youngjae very ineptly winds enough gauze around his hands to make him look like a mummy. His arms are still bleeding sluggishly, and for some reason, the grossed-out look on Youngjae’s face as he carefully bandages them anyway makes Bambam want to cry.

“You okay?” Youngjae says quietly, looking up at Bambam from where he’s seated on the floor of the bathroom. He pats Bambam’s calf lightly, looking lost, like he doesn’t know how else to help, but really, all Bambam needs is his presence. Youngjae might be an ass who laughs hysterically every time Bambam mispronounces a Korean word, but he is still, without a doubt, the best housemate ever.

“I –” Bambam takes a breath and closes his eyes, then blurts it out before he can think too much about what he saw. “It was the werewolves. They were fighting – a new one against the one that I helped last time.”

“We have _two_ werewolves in the area?” Bambam opens his eyes just in time to see Youngjae blanch, no doubt recalling all the horror stories about werewolves that have been circulating since the dawn of time, even though werewolves are so rare pretty much no one ever sees one anyway. Bambam doesn’t know if that makes him lucky or _un_ lucky.

“It’s not just that,” Bambam admits, and his throat is suddenly dry, but he swallows past the pain. “One of them transformed, and _I saw_.”

“ _No_ ,” Youngjae breathes, paling in horror. “They’ll kill you, Bam. You have to – I don’t know, go to the _police_ or something. Change your name. Move back to Thailand. If they think you’ll say anything – you _know_ they won’t risk anyone ruining their cover.”

Bambam covers his face with his hands. Even now, he still doesn’t know what he saw, or maybe he doesn’t _believe_ what he saw. Or is it just that doesn’t _want_ to believe what he saw? Whatever the case, he just – doesn’t know. (But he does. He recognised that voice, and that face, that _expression_.)

“It was Yugyeom,” he mumbles out from behind clenched teeth and stiff fingers.

Youngjae rocks back against the sink, looking flabbergasted. Bambam is throwing too many unbelievable statements at him too fast, and he has the exact same _does not compute_ glaze to his eyes that Bambam feels.

“I _know_ ,” Bambam sighs, even though Youngjae still hasn’t responded. “What am I gonna do, hyung?”

When Youngjae looks up again, his eyes are hard and resolute, fear shoved far back behind a rock-hard determination that Bambam has never admired more. “They won’t dare to kill us when they’re wolves; werewolves have a bad enough reputation without them attacking anyone at all. So we just have to look out for people. For – well, _Yugyeom_. I don’t know if the other werewolf will help him, but they were fighting, right? And its identity wasn’t exposed, so…maybe it won’t.”

“Me,” Bambam corrects, but Youngjae only looks confused. “He’s only going to want to kill _me_ , not us. He doesn’t know you know.”

Youngjae glares at him, and the expression is so foreign on his face that Bambam actually shrinks back. “We’re in this _together_ , Bam. If he threatens you, he’s threatening me,” Youngjae says, and the steel in his voice is unmistakable. How is this the same guy who flails over puppies every single day? At this rate, Bambam wouldn’t be surprised if Youngjae turned out to be part of the mafia or something.

Still, he’s not about to question it. “Thanks, hyung,” he mumbles, and throws himself across Youngjae, who doesn’t try to squirm away for once. Instead, his arms come up to wrap around the skinny frame trying in vain to fit in his lap, one hand patting the back of Bambam’s head lightly. It’s a tight fit, the two of them squished between the toilet and the sink, but Bambam doesn’t really mind.

“You need a new dye job. Your roots are showing,” Youngjae says after a moment, out of the blue, and Bambam gives a muffled snort of laughter. “We also need to figure out how you’re going to get around safely, especially at night. You’re definitely _not_ walking home alone tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, if you walk with me, we’ll _both_ get eaten,” Bambam says dryly. “Can’t we just, like, think about it tomorrow? I’m tired, and I need to shower.”

Youngjae immediately relents, although he does groan as he leaves the bathroom. “That means I’m going to have to wrap your injuries _again_.”

Seriously, Bambam loves him so much.

_\----- Tuesday, 29 August 2017 -----_

**KYUM** 2:48 AM  
_i’m really really really sorry :-(_  
_are you ok?_  
 _can we please meet asap_  
 _i think i need to explain things to you_

**bambam** 8:14 AM  
_i’m not gna tell anyone if that’s what u’re worried abt_

**KYUM** 9:33 AM  
_i’m not worried about that  
i just want to see you_

**bambam** 9:46 AM  
_i’m not working today_  
_come over whenever u want_  
 _preferably before youngjae gets home_  
 _don’t think u want him hearing what u have to say lol_

**KYUM** 9:48 AM  
_i’ll be right over_

It’s probably not the smartest decision Bambam’s ever made, and Youngjae’s going to _kill_ him when he finds out, but what are the alternatives? Sneaking around for the rest of his life? Seriously moving back to Thailand? He could probably report Yugyeom to the police, but the very thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and stinks too much of betrayal.

At least this way, maybe they can come to a consensus, an agreement of some sort. _You keep your mouth shut and you can live_ – that sort of thing. Or maybe Yugyeom is on his way over to kill Bambam right now. Might as well get it over with instead of having to look over his shoulder his whole life. (Seriously, he’s way too young to be having such morbid thoughts.)

And then the doorbell rings, and Bambam jumps about half a foot into the air. The thought of pretending no one’s home crosses his mind for a second, which is stupid, because _he_ was the one who told Yugyeom to come over.

Yugyeom looks just as nervous as Bambam feels when the door swings open, like maybe he expects to be yelled at right off the bat. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, shoulders slouched like he’s trying to make himself look smaller (it isn’t working). He takes in Bambam’s appearance in a single swift glance, eyes lingering on the smaller boy’s prominently bandaged arms and legs, and his expression crumples.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and Bambam is horrified to see tears welling up in Yugyeom’s eyes. He’s been preparing himself, steeling himself for anger or defensiveness, or even murderous intentions, but not _tears_.

“Um, do you want to come in?” is all he can say dumbly, and Yugyeom nods, still wiping at his eyes even as he plops down onto the couch. He’s dressed all in black – black tee, black jeans – and Bambam wonders if it’s a genuine fashion choice, or if it’s related to the fact that his wolf is black.

“Um,” Bambam repeats, because Yugyeom looks thoroughly miserable and not at all as if he is about to explain everything. “Do you want to…start? Like, about yesterday.”

And that seems to open the floodgates. “Everything – it’s all my _fault_ ,” Yugyeom bursts out, so loudly that Bambam flinches in his armchair, and the taller boy subsides with an apologetic lowering of his eyes. “I mean, I should have told you from the start, but I was scared. I’ve never told anyone before, and you seemed like you wanted to be my friend, and I didn’t want you to look at me like – like _that_ once you knew. Like you’re _scared_ of me. It was just easier to – to be normal.”

Bambam shakes his head. “I’m not scared of you,” he protests, and it’s true. It’s a little hard to be afraid of Yugyeom when he’s sitting hunched in on himself, eyes still red-rimmed.

“I mean _yesterday_. Your _face_ –” Yugyeom pauses, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. “You were so scared. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Bambam leans forward as a sudden thought strikes him, and Yugyeom jerks at his unexpected movement – it seems they’re both on tenterhooks then. “So your _hand_ ,” Bambam breathes, mentally smacking himself for his utter stupidity. “The scars are from the trap, aren’t they? I can’t believe I didn’t _see_ that.” He reaches out, and Yugyeom tentatively extends his scarred hand to Bambam.

 “It would have been weird if you saw it and immediately thought _werewolf trap_ ,” Yugyeom says with a wry smile, but his words seem to dry up quite abruptly when Bambam begins to trace his fingers gently about the circumference of Yugyeom’s wrist. It’s even more horrifying now that he can see exactly where the jaws of the trap clamped down mercilessly, now that he knows where all the jagged scars come from.

“ _You_ must have been so scared that night, before I came,” he says quietly, his thumb rubbing along Yugyeom’s pulse point, across the uneven skin.

“I couldn’t believe you tried to help me,” Yugyeom admits with a sheepish smile. “I thought you’d – I dunno, scream or something.”

“As if _I’d_ ever scream,” Bambam scoffs. “So that night at the concert – I mean, you’ve known who I was all along?” The thought makes him feel odd, uncomfortable.

Yugyeom hesitates. “I _thought_ I recognised your accent, but I wasn’t sure until the second night I met you. I mean, as a – when I wasn’t human.” His lips curve in a tiny smile. “You do know I don’t have super hearing or anything when I’m human, right? I’m exactly the same as you.”

Bambam blinks, because that _is_ exactly what he’s been thinking. “Right,” he says, and somehow manages to keep a straight face. “But – I mean, I _helped_ you. I don’t hate werewolves or anything. You could have _told_ me. Is that why you ran after the movie?”

“It’s _different_ ,” Yugyeom says hotly, pulling his hand out of Bambam’s grasp. “You knew me as a person and you knew me as a wolf, but it’s not the _same_ , when you know that the person is _also_ a wolf. It’s just – I didn’t want you to look at me differently. You might not be scared of me, but it’s not the _same_ anymore. You can’t seriously tell me your feelings about me haven’t changed at all.”

Bambam folds his arms and frowns. “The only reason I have not to be friends with you is because _you_ ran out on _me_ that day at the café,” he bites out, because it hurts that his emotions have been so easily dismissed. Does he really look like the kind of person who would ditch a friend just like that?

Yugyeom wilts before Bambam’s glare. “It was the full moon the next day,” he says in a small voice. “Most days, we can transform whenever we want and be in full control, but the wolf gets stronger the closer it gets to the full moon. We have a – a safe space at home, where we can lock ourselves in when we feel ourselves losing control. That day…it would have been dangerous for me to stay.”

Bambam sighs. Another mess that could’ve been avoided with the truth. But Yugyeom’s words stir a hunch within him, a suspicion that slowly grows to conviction the more he shifts the pieces around.

“Jaebum hyung,” Bambam says slowly, and Yugyeom’s eyes widen with something that looks very much like resignation. “ _He’s_ a werewolf too. That’s why he disappeared so suddenly back then – because he got _attacked_. He was so mad about you going out with me that day, but it was the _day_ he was mad about. _That’s_ why he wouldn’t stop messaging me about you. You werewolves are so _frustrating_.” Bambam lets out an aggravated groan, slumping back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

“What?” Yugyeom sounds more annoyed than shocked. “He was messaging you about me?” Bambam only waves a hand dismissively – he is _not_ getting into that now. Let Jaebum go and sort himself out with Yugyeom.

They are both silent for a minute, and then Yugyeom says suddenly, “That was Jaebum hyung you saw yesterday, you know.” Bambam immediately leaps upright, eyes huge. “I never told him about you being the one to save me that night, and he definitely didn’t know I was still seeing you as a wolf. He thinks it’s unsafe to wander around as a wolf – which, I mean, it _is_ , but, well. He was _so_ angry when he found me – you saw. He didn’t realise you were there until later; he was just telling me off for running around after dark.”

Bambam winces. “I thought you guys were fighting.”

Yugyeom grins fully for the first time that day, teeth flashing. “It’s just a wolf thing. It probably looked a lot worse than it really was.”

“It definitely did,” Bambam agrees, rolling his eyes. The air feels more comfortable between them now, almost back to normal in fact, and he wonders if it can really be that easy.

“I won’t tell anyone, you know,” he says quietly, solemnly. “You can trust me.”

Yugyeom blinks at him with the kind of innocence that would look contrived on anyone else. “I was never worried about that,” he says, and his smile is sweet. Bambam feels his heart give a lurch.

“Well, now that _that’s_ sorted.” He looks down, toying with the fraying edges of his old shirt as he gathers all the necessary words in his mouth. He doesn’t know if it’s the right time to be doing this, but he wants to get it all out before some other calamity (or misunderstanding) strikes again.

“Maybe, um – we could start over?” It’s a struggle to look up and meet Yugyeom’s bewildered gaze, and Bambam swallows nervously. “I mean, maybe we could try… _goingonadate_?”

“What?” Yugyeom shakes his head, looking confused.

Bambam pauses with his mouth half-open, then blurts out, slower this time, “Do you want to go on a _date_? With me. Not today, I mean. But someday?”

Yugyeom looks like he’s just been smashed over the head with a frying pan. “A date?” he repeats, dazed. “But we barely know each other.”

Bambam raises his brows more confidently than he really feels. “That’s the _point_ of dates. To get to know each other better.”

“Oh. Well, okay.” Yugyeom beams shyly. “I’d like that. Just not too close to the full moon, I guess.”

Bambam snorts.

* * *

This story ends just as summer is dying and giving way to autumn. A new season, a new start.

Yugyeom calls Jaebum over so that he can fuss over Bambam’s injuries and give the younger boy a too-tight hug, before they all sit down to talk. There are some things only Jaebum can explain – why he hid, why he stayed away.

“My parents disowned me when they found out,” Jaebum says, and his voice is perfectly even, tightly controlled. “I just couldn’t face telling everyone else.”

“My parents still don’t know,” Yugyeom admits guiltily. “I go home a lot anyway. They just think I moved out to be closer to school.”

Bambam can’t imagine not telling his mum anything – except maybe how much he’s been splurging on clothes, at the expense of everything else – but he supposes he’s lucky in that aspect.

Youngjae freaks out and tries to brain Yugyeom with his bag when he gets home, until they manage to pin him down and explain that _no_ , no one is dying today or in the near future.

“ _You’re_ a werewolf too?” Youngjae splutters at Jaebum, whom he’s been discussing class selection with for the best part of the month. Bambam has never seen Jaebum look so embarrassed.

_\----- Tuesday, 29 August 2017 -----_

**bambam** 7:36 PM  
_i know what jaebum and yugyeom are  
and i know u know_

**Mark Tuan** 7:44 PM  
_wait. WHAT._

**bambam** 7:46 PM  
_LMAO_  
_i mean they told me so don’t freak out LOL_  
 _i can’t believe u didn’t tell me wtf???_

**Mark Tuan** 7:48 PM  
_seriously? what happened_  
_jaebum asked me not to tell_  
 _did they tell u i knew?_

**bambam** 7:49 PM  
_long story_  
_tell u the next time u treat me to supper lololol_  
 _no i’m just a genius_  
 _srsly who else cld pay to build a freaking SAFE SPACE in jaebum’s flat??_

**Mark Tuan** 7:52 PM  
_lol_  
 _i always treat u to supper anyway. what’s the diff_  
 _not bad bam_  
 _not bad at all_  
 _we didn’t mean to keep it from u though_  
 _sorry_  
 _jinyoung only knew bc jaebum felt bad for ruining the jj debut_

**bambam** 7:53 PM  
_ew_  
_traitors_  
 _jk lol i mean at least i know everything now??_  
 _better late than never_  
 _but u still owe me things_  
 _lots of things_  
 _idk what things but u owe me_

**Mark Tuan** 7:56 PM  
_lol_  
_how about signed merch_  
 _u can auction it off at school_

**bambam** 7:57 PM  
_LOOOOOL_  
 _that’s not even a bad idea_  
 _anw see u soon_  
 _the mutts are still here so i gotta be a good host_  
 _say hi to jinyoung for me_

**Mark Tuan** 7:59 PM  
_i’m going to tell jaebum u said that lol_  
_also i alr know what jinyoung’s going to say_  
 _‘that’s jinyoung HYUNG to u brat’_  
 _lol_  
_yeah i’ll message u when we’re free_

“Who are you texting?” Jaebum asks, looking over from where he and Youngjae are sprawled out on the floor, discussing readings for their first class on Friday. The two of them are so unbearably studious it makes Bambam nauseous. At least Yugyeom is beside him on the couch, playing some game on his phone and paying no attention the television in front of them.

“Mark,” Bambam says with a smirk. “I forced him to confess that he knew about you all along.”

Jaebum rolls his eyes and goes back to his textbook, but not before Bambam hears him mutter, “Mark _hyung_ ,” under his breath. Some things just never change.

The four of them hang out (with _hang out_ mostly consisting of Yugyeom and Bambam whispering to each other about Youngjae and Jaebum’s infernal diligence, accompanied by surreptitious giggles and death glares from Jaebum) until it’s almost midnight, and Youngjae is practically asleep on the living room floor. Yugyeom has gradually slouched down until his head is resting against Bambam’s shoulder, his phone abandoned in his lap.

“We should go,” Jaebum says, stretching his arms out with a grunt. “Study session tomorrow?” He nudges at Youngjae with a foot, and Youngjae groans, but nods anyway.

“ _Ew_ ,” Bambam says loudly, and Yugyeom snickers.

“Guess I should go,” Yugyeom sighs, his voice high and drowsy. He tilts his head up to Bambam with his eyes half-slitted, lips pulling into a smile, and – well, Bambam doesn’t know how it happens, but he bends and Yugyeom shifts against him for a less awkward angle, and then they’re _kissing_.

It’s weird and wonderful and just – _everything_. The way Yugyeom’s lips move against his, _with_ his. The way Yugyeom smells, the way he tastes (very faintly of chocolate shake, oddly enough), the warmth of his side pressed against Bambam’s, the soft sigh he makes when Bambam pulls away.

The apartment door is ajar and Jaebum is nowhere to be seen, but Youngjae is still on the floor – sitting up now – staring at the two of them with his mouth agape.

“Bye,” Bambam whispers, and Yugyeom flushes bright red. He barely manages to mumble out his own _bye_ before he’s grabbing his bag and dashing out of the door, Bambam’s laughter trailing out into the night air after him.

This is how the night deepens and how this story ends – with their first kiss, of course – but _their_ story has only just begun, and it is not the only story left to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so bad pls forgive. I hope it was at least somewhat satisfactory.


End file.
